And I want it simple,
a small breath filling the world
with tremendous music.
Among fields of shocked corn
you are stepping into your car.
Stranger, my love, you really are.
Place your hands on my chest.
You can trust me.
See, they go right through.
— Ralph Angel, from “Among Fields of Shocked Corn,” Exceptions and Melancholies: Poems 1986-2006 (Ralph Angel, 2006)